Valkyrie grinned at October. So he was capable of things worse than bar fights. Whatever doubt she had been harbouring disappeared instantly. She was so distracted by the idea of the dead man that she briefly loosened her grip on the boy, who took the opportunity to attempt to wrangle his way from her grasp.

Astrid groaned and bashed him on the back of his head with her elbow. The boy staggered and grabbed at where he had been hit. Astrid took the opportunity to grab him again by the neck and force him into a headlock. He was going nowhere fast.

Each time he attempted to struggle, the teen simple held him tighter than before, forcing him in a rather uncomfortable position. She edged him towards the car that October was walking to and pushed him into the back seat, 'accidentally' hitting his head off of the side on the way in.

Once he was uncomfortably nestled in the back, with two seatbelts precariously wrapped around him, Astrid got into the front seat. It had been some time since she had been in a car, but she had no trouble making herself at home. Heeled feet went onto the dashboard, and her finger hovered above the radio system, ready to change it to something interesting as soon as her coconspirator started the engine. She was not going to wear a seatbelt herself, no matter what anyone said. It was far too restricting on her wings, which were already rather uncomfortably stuffed behind her.

"Where we go?" She asked the green man, her eyes wide with excitement. It was exhilarating to kidnap people. Maybe it would be something that she would try on a more regular basis. 

He still remembered the feel of the air being sliced by his boot and the crunch before the crumpling and the fall, but that was done with and in the dumpster, to be taken out with the next day's trash. Even acting cavalier as he was, he had still dealt with it and was dealing. It's inhuman to be able to kill and just turn your conscience off. But then he wasn't human at all, was he? No? Then he'd be okay! Lifting him had been the hardest part, out of the whole thing. The rest had been as simple as snapping a wish bone from a turkey... which really wasn't a good thing to dwell on, which was why he was not dwelling. He was working to get to the car to drive them to a dwelling.

The trip from the alley to his car had been in silence. The kid had followed pathetically. Every time he'd struggled, Val had beaten him down. He was too fat and weak to fight back effectively, a cannoli on legs, filled with wimpy cream.

Cannoli on legs, filled with wimpy cream, he grimaced. Had those words actually gone through his skull? Ridiculously disrespectful, rude as heck. And lame as hell. Just like the kid himself. Smirk.

They reached the car. He opened the doors with a button press, and Val forced the kid in. A little mummification with seatbelts later, she got into the passenger side of the front seat of the black Focus. The car wasn't new. It wasn't in fantastic shape. That's what he'd wanted to buy with some of his Jager money. Unobtrusive, and not too fancy to get stolen or broken in to. Not too much of a rare commodity to stand out. As grungy as it was, feet on dashboard did not seem entirely out of place. No comment was made!

"Where we go?" She asked him.

He turned the key in the ignition, and the radio blared an old rock classic, Eye of the Tiger. "A safehouse." Elliott said, without elaboration. The black Ford Focus pulled away from the curb and entered New York traffic. Nobody thought anything amiss.

The safe house was about twelve blocks north and three blocks west. It was in a bad neighborhood where cops rarely patrolled. They wouldn't be detected.

Last time he'd hung out, he'd gone in through a broken window up a fire escape he had hopped, onto the second floor... but they couldn't lug tubby up that way. So he made it work. They went in through a door in the back of the apartment building. It had once been a maintenance entrance. He shattered the chain connecting the lock with a kick, then opened the door. Windows were broken. The old brick building was rundown and had not been used in some time. The electricity was off, so their light came from dirty windows and holes in the walls. Every few steps, there was something on the floor to avoid or step over. The maintenance entrance led to a hallway, which led up to a stairwell behind a door. They made their way up the stairs, navigating by daylight that steamed through the dirty stairway windows on the side of the stairwell. The room was down a hallway on the second floor.

The fire escape and entrance he'd used would have been visible just beyond the room when they'd entered it on the side of the hall. There were other rooms up and down the hall, but this was the one he'd chosen for their base of operations. If they needed more rooms, they were there. He even had locks in a toolkit somewhere, if they needed to lock someone in. Past Elliott had somehow planned ahead. As he walked in, he nabbed a rope from a night stand that stood crookedly against the wall directly to the left of them when they entered the room. He wound it around his fist, and kept walking.

He lit a camping lantern on a card table in the center of the room and pulled up a metal chair in front of the table. There were two more by the windows, though one had a broken back. Detritus and garbage covered the floor like a sparse carpet. In the corner of the room, there was an old mattress with a red splotch on the center and blankets that looked like they'd been kicked off the sleeper, all the way to the foot of the mattress. There was no frame. When he'd used it last, he'd been injured. It had served well for that. There were some old fast food drink cups and greasy bags scattered around, but it was unlikely there would be anything to eat in them, unless you liked roaches.

Elliott smiled briefly at her, still standing, and nodded to the chair he'd set up. He held up the rope between his two-fingered hands. "Sit him down. I'll tie him up." He said. When that was done, he pulled the backless chair up to another side of the card table for himself, and held out the remaining good chair for her. "Let's talk about what we're going to do next." Elliott said. He let her take this moment to ask him any good questions, like "Gee, October? What are we going to do next?"

They were going to a safe house. She recognized the two words apart, and assumed that they meant they meant the same things together. But why on earth would they bring the boy somewhere safe? They didn't want him to be safe, did they?

The girl cocked her head at the green man as he drove. The murder had definitely bumped his standing in her books, but the question was whether or not he would be able to hold onto it.

Astrid sat silently until they reached the location, and then pulled the boy out of the car. He was heavy and struggling, and she weighed just over 100 pounds on a good day. It was difficult for her to manage him, but she didn't complain. And October didn't seem to notice.

Her worries about the 'safe house' dissolved the farther in they went. The place was an absolute dump, and it looked far from safe. Especially with all the broken glass and garbage scattered all over the ground. As she glanced around the room that October had led them to, her feelings changed entirely. 

There was a mattress on the floor with the blankets kicked down and a blood stain in the middle of it. It looked as though someone actually slept on it, and it looked as though that person may have been the green man standing in front of her. Her lip curled as she thought of someone stooping as low as to sleep in their own filth in a place like that.

Upon command, she abandoned her thoughts and forced the boy into the metal chair in front of a little table. The dim lighting gave a great effect; like something out of a Liam Neeson movie. She had been grossed out before, but the more she thought about what they were going to do, the more excited she became. She dug her overgrown fingernails into the shoulders of the boy, who made a muffled noise of pain. 

>>"Let's talk about what we're going to do next."

"We are killing," Astrid blinked at him, as if that conclusion had been the obvious one. What else would they do with the fat boy? It wasn't like they could make him work for them or something. Clearly they would just kill the boy, but pretend that they hadn't, and try to exact a payment from his rich father. 

The boy's eyes had grown wide with fear, and he stomped on Astrid's foot beneath the chair. She howled in pain and was indisposed for a brief second. The boy attempted to run, but was expectedly slow.

As soon as she composed herself, Astrid shot the bottom row of her freshly transformed crystals at him. Only the last one hit him on the arm, but it dug in deep and embedded itself in his upper arm, where his tricep would have been.

The boy screamed and fell to the floor. Valkyrie smirked at her work with a mixed feeling of contempt and pride. She had been aiming for somewhere lethal, but things seemed to have worked out for her anyway.

She stepped lightly on her sore foot and dragged the boy back to his seat, throwing him aggressively and without care. Things weren't going to get any better for him, and he needed to learn that quickly. 

She blinked at him, and said something inanely stupid. It, of course, caused the dumb child they had kidnapped to go off the deep and and do something foolish, like try and escape. That was the sort of feat reserved for people with skills to back up such escape attempts. He had none. The best it was going to accomplish here was getting him killed. Or, well, nearly. Valkyrie's aim wasn't as insane as she probably had thought.

Elliott's eyes couldn't get any bigger than dinner plate-sized, so he settled for staring in disdain, then reacting. First things first, he threw the rope so it hung over one shoulder. Then, he stepped to the side, tearing the sheets off the bed, and ripping them into neat little bandage-sized strips. Then he stepped forward and tore the crystal out of the boy's arm. It started bleeding profusely immediately. He was no doctor. He used the torn strips to bandage the wound and stopper the bleeding as effectively as he could. Honestly, he probably should have left the crystal in the arm, because it had been holding the blood at bay. Ripping it out? It had caused bleeding, and the kid was squealing like a stuck pig. Once the boy was bandaged, he got tied down. You simply cannot find good help these days. Elliott had expected Val to do it. He was doing it himself.

"Why--" through the tears, the boy managed to speak. "Are you-- doing this?" He cried.

"We aren't killing," Elliott said, looking Val directly in the eyes. "Yet. The situation hasn't called for it." When it did, maybe. But right now, the boy was more use to them alive. And she needed to learn that. "We kidnapped him because I know for a fact that his dad has enemies who would do the exact same thing if they got the chance. And I figure we can pin it on them and cause them some trouble. And cause his dad some trouble. And set off a gang war. Okay?" Was that okay with Val? Was that chaotic enough for her? Did she get it? He realized his tone was garbage. It was pretty condescending. But he was frustrated. She had nearly killed their kidnapped child, and he was no good to them dead.

"Hopefully, you don't need a doctor." He muttered, tearing his attention away form Valkyrie to look over the poorly-bandaged arm he had taken it upon himself to tend. He squeezed it to make sure it was keeping the blood back. All that accomplished was making the child howl. "Good. Don't try running away again. It's stupid. Be smart. You just might get out of this alive."

Ugh. Not killing the kid was just so lame.

Seriously, did October even know what chaos was? Had he ever felt the ecstasy of having someone else's blood run down his hands?

She started to doubt whether or not he had even killed the man in the alleyway like he said he did. The nerve of some.

Valkyrie glared at October through slitted black orbs and crossed her long arms over her chest. Fine. Whatever. She would go along with it, but she wasn't going to be happy about it. Especially not with the little brat still running around in relatively good condition.

She was no longer invested; she cared not for the mission at hand. Maybe she would have still been interested if it had less steps, or if there was more blood, or even just if October had been a little more affirming, but that was not the case. However, she was there, and she was in it, so she was going to finish it. 

The boy's head rolled to one side when October was finished bandaging his wound, and he did not protest through any of it. He was weak, insolent, and she couldn't care less if he died of blood loss. October's plan was overcomplicated and she was sick of not doing anything. 

She continued to sigh as she finished October's job of tying him to the chair, and then as she stood up once she was finished. She jutted a hip and flipped her tangled mass of black hair out of the way of her wings as she glared at October once again. 

He had wanted to work with the angsty murder teen, so the angsty murder teen was what he was going to get. 

Astrid finished tying the boy up. "Thank you," Elliott said tightly. He felt stressed. This situation just wasn't going down how he'd hoped. Valkyrie was good at the chaos side of the whole Ragnarok thing, but plotting things out... it just didn't seem a good fit. To him, she now seemed less the career criminal / mercenary type, and more the reactionary fighter. He considered how to work with that. As he was considering, the boy decided to be An Hero.

When he'd been injured, he had squealed like a stuck pig. It still hurt. OH, IT HURT! He was going to die. He was going to die. He was going to--- well, it's obvious the only thought in his head as his brain blue screened through the biting pain was that he was going to die, repeated ad infinitum, forever. His breathing had racked up to the point of hyperventilating. He wriggled. He squealed. And his eyes bulged like he was going to have a heart attack. And suddenly, his pupils dilated. The whole world seemed to surge away like a zoom away cut in a movie, leaving him an insignificant speck in a chair in a building in the middle of the city on planet earth, 1 little boy against the world. The realization hit him like a kick in the nuts, and lit every synapse in his brain. And-- His mutation activated.

It wasn't just the boy's eyes that bulged. His pants were tighter than they had been a moment ago, and to Astrid's eyes, he would appear pinker, with a fatter face. Nostrils flared upwards, a blooming snout. Eyes shrunk, to little black dots. It all happened so fast. His entire body molded, sculpting itself upwards and outwards like bad claymation. The ropes snapped as he grew in girth and size. Suddenly, a very large pink piggy with a black splotch on his back squalled and squealed and surged into motion, slamming forwards as the chair toppled back. He charged the girl who had injured him, like a hellbent wild boar. Cloven hooves thumped loudly on the floor. 

What. What. WHAT!? Elliott's mind reeled as he took it in. His focus on the boy had waned as he'd pulled out his cellphone. He didn't have time to react as the pig charged Val. She was going to kill it. It was going to die. AND HE. DID NOT. WANT IT TO HURT SOMEONE HE WAS WORKING WITH, EVEN IF SHE HAD A TENDENCY TO ACT LIKE A VIOLENCE-STARVED CHILD IN NEED OF AN ANGRY FIX. Before he knew what he'd done, his foot had flashed out. He'd crossed the distance between then, and brought up his leg in a powerful kick. His boot struck the pig's face, with an audible crunch. The pig flew across the room to shatter drywall where it impacted. Dust settled. Silence reigned. And the pig shrunk down to become a boy again. A very motionless boy with a head at a severe angle. Very motionless. Very dead.

Elliott stared at the results of his response for all of two seconds, then realized he was still holding his phone and took a picture of it. Focusing on his tiny cell phone screen, his voice drifted over his shoulder, back to Valkyrie. "Okay. You were right. Killing is what we are doing. Best choice." Now they could take a picture of the dead boy, send it to his dad, and start a gang war. "You knew best. Sorry I was a dick." His tone was apologetic, if distracted, as he focused on contacting his friend Megara so she could hook him up with the mob boss's phone number. So he could text the pic.

Oh god. The child was changing. 

Astrid's lip curled and she visibly recoiled as she watched the boy become so much less of a boy. He turned pink, his features changed, his whole frame bent and warped into something grotesque. It was a pig. He had become a pig. A fitting thing, for the squealing, chubby child that they had kidnapped.

Astrid didn't have long to marvel at the boy's newfound abilities. He had broken free of the ropes and was running at her. At her! The disgusting little creature was plotting a course for her favourite shoes!

However, before the teen could even react, October was there. He kicked the brat's little snout and sent it flying at the wall, where it landed with a crash. Pig was replaced with boy, and it was clear that the boy was no longer alive. The whole picture was wonderful. She just wished that there was some way to document the thing.

Astrid's face brightened, and she bounced on her heels, clapped her hands together, and made a squeaky, happy noise. The whole thing was reminiscent of a child yelling: "again, again!" She was so entire proud of October. It crushed all of her doubts, and made her much more fond of the green mutant in front of her. He had killed! And he had done it so callously! She had absolutely nothing to worry about. She was in good company.

October even took the liberty of admitting his mistake. Of course she had been right before. His plan had been stupid, and clearly he had seen the light. Or the darkness, rather. 

Valkyrie stepped over to the boy and dragged him out into the middle of the room so that October could get a better picture. He was still unbelievably heavy, but in the very least, he wasn't thrashing around anymore. 

She then stood up with her hands on her hips and let out a breath. Turning to October, she grinned and posed a question, "what next? Hungry? Starting fights? Stealing things?" There were so many things that they could do, and she was itching to do all of them.

Death and destruction made the Valkyrie happy. Weren't Valkyries the creatures that swept men up off the battlefield and took them to Valhalla? This one was more interested in putting them in the ground. The reaction was kind of funny, though. Totally expected, with everything he knew of her. He half expected an 'Again! again!' from her.

She dragged the boy out into the open, and he took another picture. Yeah. That was a much better angle. The guy would need the best angle possible, if he were to believe someone had killed his son. It wasn't like they were going to leave that sort of evidence around for someone to find. Autopsy would reveal the cause of death, and what happened prior. Not many people had the strength to snap a neck like that. Sure, they could leave him rotting in this building. It was unlikely anyone but bums would notice the smell. But disposal of a body was an important skill to learn. He had never done it. Alternatively...


Elliott smiled at her. "First." He jerked his head towards the body. Disposal of evidence He thought. Out loud, he said "We burn this mother down." He had no real attachment to this building. It had been useful, but it had served its purpose. Charred remains wouldn't leave much for identification. "I'll set it up. We can even tag the buildings around it with a Ragnarok symbol, so they get credit. I've got something else for you, though. Tell me. Do you have a cellphone? I've got some bombs I've requisitioned, and I could use someone to go and blow some stuff up while I set up some assassinations."

There were further crime bosses he could target, and more chaos he could cause. He would watch the fallout, and react to it. Anything she could blow up while he was planning the next assault was more help to the Ragnarok cause. Anyone who asked what he was doing for Ragnarok would certainly get an easy answer from him. He meant to give her things to keep her busy and in the organization, as well. It might also not hurt to bolster their ranks. He'd keep an eye open and antennae twitching in the wind.

There was so much they could blow up. So much they could do. His ideas hadn't even scratched the surface of the potential here. And all of it would look good to whoever was in charge. He meant to keep this business operation going strong.

Astrid clapped her hands together once again. They were going to burn things! How exciting! She didn't have much experience with fire, but she was not opposed to learning. Especially when it involved burning an entire building and a dead body down.

Her face fell a little when she was asked if she had a cellphone. She shook her head after a second. She was completely unconnected from the world of the internet. She had an email address, yes, but that was purely for Ragnarok purposes, and she had to use a library computer to access it.

That being said, she wasn't particularly inclined to invest any money or time into getting technology. From her perspective, it didn't really offer her anything the way that shoes or weapons did. If she was going to waste that much time or energy on something, it would be one of those. 

The second half of his comment was what sparked her interest. He had led with fire - a good pastime - but now he was telling her to make things explode. The girl nearly fell over.

"I want to blowing things up! Make noise! Killing the people! Fall down and up and down! Want to do it! Want to do it!" Astrid chattered at him excitedly. She wasn't entirely sure exactly what she was saying to him, but she hoped that she was at least conveying her feelings toward the matter.

She was in. She was so in.

They were going to have to get the girl a cellphone. He could arrange for one. Since she was now officially on his RADAR, he could arrange for something. A smart burn phone, probably. Part of him wanted to get her a top of the line smart phone, but the other part knew plans on those tied people down, and that she likely would get about as much use out of it as she would a burn phone. There was no need for the newest and best. As long as it could call, text, and do internet, who cared whether it had a fruit on its case? He nodded at her response, and let it rest for a moment.

The other thing he had said interested her far more than cellphones. She hadn't, but from her reaction, his imagination had set her into a happy bout of dancing. He chuckled grimly, head bowed. "Good answer." Elliott said.

His phone pinged. He looked at the screen for a second, tapped out a quick response, pulled a second phone from his pocket, texted the picture to that one, THEN entered the number from his contact as a new message, attached the picture, wrote a brief message to convey who had done what and why, including the words 'a reckoning', and sent the text to the mob boss. Then, he dropped the cellphone neatly in front of him and STOMPED it dead. He had gotten everything he needed from that extra burn phone.

He looked up at Valkyrie. "Okay. Let's run out and get some gasoline and matches. Then I can take you by a place, and get you some bombs." He knew where he could get the requisite forms: His mind. "I'll hook you up with a cellphone while I'm at it, just because it's easier to talk that way."

The nearest gas station was about a block away. They had gas tanks on sale, lighters, whatever they needed. Elliott led the way out the door. He paid cash for everything at the station. A short while later, they were back. They did their best to stay unobtrusive as Elliott and Val poured gasoline all around the inside of the building, and the exterior. He made extra sure he'd doused the body heavily with fuel. Then, they both stepped outside and Elliott handed Valkyrie the matchbook.

"Light em up," Elliott said.

Dumping gasoline on things was fun. Like, really fun. Astrid danced around the building and around the body as she let the liquid spill out over the concrete. It looked even better as it covered the body of the little pig boy. He had gotten extra, which Astrid grinned at.

Within seconds, the building reeked of fluid. Instead of deterring her the smell only made her more excited. She could heart her heart pounding in her ears, and her stomach was in her throat. She had never played with fire before, and dear lord was she excited.

Her black platforms touched the pavement outside of the building, and she nearly shook in anticipation. She stood next to October, close enough to still touch the building. It was going to be glorious; she had no doubt in her mind.

The matchbook was handed to her, and she could barely contain herself. A high-pitched noise of pure joy escaped from her lips, and she grabbed the thing greedily. The first match was struck with an intense sense of malice, and she threw it through the open window of the ground floor.  

Immediately, the flames grew. First the floor, the walls, the ceiling, then the next room. It followed the gasoline with an eagerness that rivalled Valkyrie's, spreading through the building until there was nowhere else to do.

Astrid laughed and twirled around, watching the fire like a child on Christmas morning. It was everything she had hoped for. Beautiful, powerful, and destructive.

And, it was a towering inferno.

"Follow me," Elliott said. It was time to flee the scene. He had planned where they would go next. His plan had not been to take Val by the headquarters for Jaager Worldwide. Nor had it been to take her to his apartment. He walked two blocks down and one block over. Valkyrie followed him, flying a little ways every few steps, then lagging behind with complaints about the walk. They reached a corner, and Elliott flagged down a cab. The cab driver, a man with honey brown skin, a thick mustache and curly black hair, looked at the two of them for a moment, and looked away. They smelled like a gas station. "Vere to?" He asked.

Elliott gave him the address.

The green man glanced at Val smugly. "That went well. Now, we're headed to the next place." Another safe house. He had been very careful about setting several up when he'd come into money working for JW and Ragnarok. He was careful to watch what he said. "You'll get a kick out of it. I'll teach you what you need to know."

"You'll get a kick out of it. I'll teach you what you need to know."

Astrid shrugged, still on a high from burning down the building. Learning things didn't sound like a lot of fun, but she could deal with it after having such an exciting day. It evened out.

She took up the entire back seat of the cab, stretching out her wings over the three seats. October took the front, and before long, they were off. It wasn't a long ride, but it was drawn out by the quick chatter of the cabbie. Most of it went right over Astrid's head, so she simply did her best to tune out the noise.

They eventually arrived at their destination. A red brick building. It was nothing special, but Astrid hoped that there was something interesting inside. 

She clambered out of the cab, allowing October to pay for the faire, and stretched out her various appendages. "What we are doing here?" She asked her green companion, straining her neck to see inside of one of the windows. 

"Just a pit stop," Elliott said. He looked at at the building, taking it in. Such a plain building on a New York street, one would never think that in one of the rooms inside, there was a stockpile of explosives. How very much like a New York citizen. You never know what you're dealing with until it's too late.

He lead the way inside, and up to one of the apartments on one of the higher floors. They didn't run into anyone on the way in. It was daytime, and most people were at work in the city, or else too focused on their pitiful lives inside their homes that they didn't step outside to look at people in the halls.

Elliott unlocked the door, and held it for the valkyrie.

"It doesn't look like much." His voice was bland, almost tepid. "But open that broom closet in the room right before the kitchen."

The kitchen itself was practically empty. He didn't live there, but it had a few boxes of dry food, and a few cans in cabinets. There was a pantry. If he needed to stop for a bite, it was close, and easy. The broom closet near the kitchen was full of wrapped explosives. C4, among other things, and the important accouterments. Nobody ever got invited in, and he didn't clean it, so why would he put anything other than explosives in a broom closet? He didn't have a broom. This was so much more useful!

Elliott had a feeling, as he revealed the closet full of explosives, that Val's reaction would be one of the purest joy. If her past reactions to violence and fire were any indication, it'd be good.

Astrid nearly fainted. The broom closet was chock-full of explosives. Literally. There wasn't much else in there.

The young girl's jaw locked from being open at such a wide angle for so long. She brought a hand up and closed it forcefully. 

The rest of the house was... Yeah, sure, whatever, but this was... Well... This was everything she could ever dream of! They could do so much with that amount of explosives!

Astrid stepped into the closet and picked up a wrapped bundle of what the label told her was C4. Her pale, grubby hands swept over it nervously, almost as if she couldn't believe that she was really holding it. In a way, it was like it was speaking to her, telling her that she had really moved up in the world. 

Black eyes filled with glee rose to meet Elliott's. "Are us going to be making the people die with this?"